Isatake Outliers
by nerfherder-han
Summary: After an attack that led to the hero academy known as Isatake to close its doors, three students from 1-A are welcomed to U.A.'s own while investigations commence. From day one, Hanashi, Manaka, and Noriko are the outliers from Isatake. Todoroki/OFC, ?/OMC
1. Chapter 1

**If you think you've seen Manaka and Noriko somewhere before, you have! They're featured in Shin Alter's fic, Dark Justice, where they're students enrolling to Tokushu, a school that rivals U.A.**

 **I'd love to give a shoutout to shiftseveny, the creator of Hanashi and also a rad guy I can scream with for days over HeroAca and our ocs.**

* * *

U.A. High School. Arguably the best school for budding pro heroes in the world, most definitely the best in Japan by far. This was where the greats came from, where the best students wound up studying. This was the school that gave birth to legends like All Might and Endeavour, run by an enigma of a principal whose rare status as an animal with a Quirk made headlines.

This was not the school they were supposed to be enrolled in. This was not Isatake High School. This was not Class 1-A of Isatake High School. These were not the classmates of the outsiders hailing from Isatake High School. More than anything, though, this was not what either school had planned for.

The trio stood at the front of the class as eighteen pairs of visible eyes stared back at them. It'd been quite some time since so much attention had been on two of the wayward students, though it was probably the first time they'd had to guess at whether or not the floating uniform seated at one desk was doing the same. It was easy to guess what some of the students were capable of thanks to their appearances, some of them possessing mutation Quirks. There were even a few faces from news reports over the last year or so.

From left to right, they were two boys and a girl. The first had cascading curls of pink hair and a rather closed-off, bored expression on his pale face; at first glance he was easily mistaken for a girl, but his posture and, well, the boys' uniform for Isatake he wore threw any doubts out the window. Right next to him, vastly taller and much more cheerful-looking, was the other boy—fluffy silver hair and bright bottle blue eyes, his uniform done up much more casually compared to the two flanking him. Finally, closest to the teacher's desk stood the bespectacled girl. She resembled the one in the middle quite a bit, only a few inches smaller and looking much more mousy in comparison. Similar silver hair, long and straight, and a pair of glasses that she fiddled with nervously.

Silence dragged on and on in the classroom. The girl shifted on her feet and dropped her gaze to the floor. The boy in the middle only continued to meet the stares with a smile. The boy who stood closest to the window shoved his hands into his pockets and mimicked his classmate, suddenly interested in his shoes. It felt like an eternity was passing by as they all waited for the homeroom teacher to arrive, no one brave enough to speak up about the situation without a teacher overseeing the potential chaos.

It was midway through homeroom that the door finally slid open, the ragged Eraser Head ambling inside with paperwork and staff members with spare desks in tow. The Isatake students all watched him with wide eyes as he took his place at the desk in front of the class, and everyone waited with bated breaths as he readied his paperwork.

"As you've probably heard by now," Eraser Head deadpanned, "the hero academy known as Isatake High School has suffered major damages to its structure and staff members and has been forced to close down while an investigation is undertaken. The details of what happened to the school are not what's important right now. For the moment, all you need to know is that its students are being taken in by other schools around Japan based on where each student lives, and U.A. is among one of the schools that volunteered to take students in."

Drowsy eyes moved to the trio. "These three are the only ones from the top Hero Course in Isatake that live within U.A.'s jurisdiction. For all intents and purposes, you will consider them fellow members of Class 1-A and U.A. students. Understood?"

Heads bobbed up and down and a few mumbled confirmations rang out.

"Good. Now then, introduce yourselves—name and Quirk—so I can wrap this up."

It was probably no surprise that the one actually smiling volunteered to go first. He stepped forward, raising a hand to wave at the students, and beamed brightly.

"Good morning!" he cheered. He had a light, carefree voice that hinted at a playful personality waiting to rear its head. "My name is Shizue Manaka, formerly of Isatake High! My Quirk is called Timestopper, and it's exactly what you think it is."

A familiar name, some of the students would think to themselves, but most would leave it at that. Very few hardcore hero enthusiasts would recognise the name of the Quirk, either, especially since the last hero to have such a Quirk was from three generations ago. Class 1-A moved their collective gazes to the girl on Manaka's left, who bore enough of a resemblance to warrant curiosity.

The girl chewed her lip and pushed her glasses up her nose unnecessarily. "I—I'm… Shizue Noriko," she tried. She started off quiet, but seemed to find the courage to raise her voice enough for everyone to hear her name. The volume didn't last for long though, her voice slowly tapering off as she finished off her introduction. "My Quirk's called, uh… Ghost…"

Another Quirk that seemed to speak for itself. The final student, with pastel pink hair that matched their own Ashido Mina's, cleared his throat and gave everyone a cursory glance.

"Nishi Hanashi," he said shortly. "Mine is Plucky."

Compared to the Shizues' Quirks, Hanashi's was definitely more vague with what it could do. Analytical students of 1-A were already coming up with theories and ideas for what Hanashi's Quirk might entail, but unless there was a proper training exercise that allowed for Quirk usage in the near future, they'd all have to wait.

The desks were secured in place in the back of the classroom, one filling the empty space in the right corner and two positioned at the end of the middle rows. The question of who would be seated where was on everyone's minds.

Eraser Head pointed to the seat behind Yaoyorozu Momo, casting a sidelong glance at Noriko. "You'll take the seat behind Yaoyorozu. Nishi, you're between Todoroki and Sato. Shizue, you're between Sato and Uraraka. Now hurry up and settle in," he added.

With their bags at their desks and their chairs tucked in beneath them, the outliers from Isatake officially joined Class 1-A of U.A. High School.


	2. Chapter 2

"He's already fluttering around…"

Having dragged her seat to Hanashi's desk, Noriko sat down with a dejected expression. "He's like that sometimes," she murmured.

Hanashi hummed flatly and opened his lunch box. Students were already filtering out of the room to head to the cafeteria, but he saw no point in following. There wouldn't be anyone they knew there, and he and Noriko had already brought lunches from home to share. Manaka had as well, but it seemed the social butterfly just wanted to get to know his new classmates as soon as humanly possible.

He looked down at Noriko's lunch box and pointed to one of the cute little octopus sausages nestled atop the seaweed salad. "Gimmie," he deadpanned.

Noriko sighed and pushed half of the sausages onto his lunch box. Before he could even object, she stole an apple rose and placed it delicately next to one of her octopi. Hanashi and Noriko exchanged blank stares before huffing out laughter at each other. It was funny how well they got along despite how little time they'd spent with each other. For the Isatake entrance exam they'd been in the same group, and Hanashi wouldn't deny that their Quirks worked well together. On their own they would've failed, but he liked to think it was their quick thinking and combined abilities that landed them a spot in 1-A.

Well. 1-A at Isatake. U.A. was a whole other ballpark, from what he knew about it. From what he knew about Noriko's brother, though, he would've gotten in to U.A. either way.

It was nice, though. Hanashi met someone else who had a hard time getting along with others, and the best part was that their Quirks actually _worked_. It was only natural that they'd click, especially with their mutual wariness of others. Birds of a feather, right?

"How do you make these?" Noriko poked at the apple rose. "I wanna see if Dad can make them for me."

Hanashi feigned offense. "Then who would I share _mine_ with?"

She giggled. The conversation petered off as they began to dig into their lunches, soon the only sounds coming from the classroom being Manaka's avid attempts at conversation. Hanashi dared a glance, wondering just how Manaka was planning to befriend the invisible girl; it was hard to see much outside of how the uniform would move, and she was somewhat still as Manaka babbled to her and appeared to gush over something.

When he looked back to Noriko, it seemed as though she knew exactly what her brother would gush over to the one transparant student in the class.

"Ah," Hanashi deadpanned. "He does that, doesn't he?"

" _He does_ ," Noriko sighed. Hanashi had never witnessed it firsthand, but according to classmates who'd been in Manaka's group, the boy had a penchant for boasting about his sister's Quirk. He could only assume how tiresome it would get, both for the subject matter and the hapless victims to the talks.

How long would it take Manaka to turn his sights on him, he wondered?

A loud shout came from the doorway. Noriko jumped, dropping the octopus sausage from her chopsticks, while Hanashi squeezed his eyes shut.

"Rowdy," Hanashi muttered. When he opened his eyes again, Noriko had turned around to see what was going on—which, to his surprise, was quite the spectacle of friendship. Manaka stood with a red-haired student, gripping his hand tightly and grinning broader than Hanashi thought possible.

He was pretty sure the boy was from the row Sato sat at. Hanashi hadn't paid much attention to the seating of others, just wanting to make sure he sat down in the right spot, but he was certain he'd walked past the redhead to get to his own desk.

Maybe there was a seating chart somewhere. Would probably help memorising names in case he had to be social at some point.

Manaka and the redhead cheered and said their goodbyes, and then all of a sudden the elder Shizue turned back for the table his peers had gathered at. Hanashi said goodbye to his peaceful, calm lunch with Noriko and readied for the scrape of Manaka's desk chair against the floor.

Manaka pulled his own lunch out from his desk and set it down next to Noriko's. He was barely even seated before he began to babble at his sister.

"Nori, Nori! Did you recognise our teacher? Did you?"

With a dry expression, Noriko said, "Hard to forget someone like Eraser Head."

Hanashi wasn't one to pry often, if at all—but the way Noriko reacted to Manaka's excitement over their (admittedly dull) homeroom teacher sparked his curiosity. Sure, Eraser Head—Aizawa-sensei?—wasn't the best person to give a good first impression, but maybe there was more to him for the Shizues? Perhaps they were fans of his? Noriko did say Manaka idolised the hero industry, after all…

"Oh! Nishi!" Manaka turned his attention to Hanashi, still grinning. "Nori and I met Eraser Head when we were in elementary school! He was so cool…"

"He was doing his job," Noriko huffed. She stuffed a large portion of seaweed salad into her mouth and chewed grumpily.

Manaka wasn't fazed. He chuckled and opened his lunch box, digging into his food without a second thought. "I know, I know," he said. "But he was still cool. The way he utilises his gear along with his Quirk is really neat—I wanna know how he got used to it so you can apply it to yours."

Well, that was a fair reason to gush over Eraser Head, then. If his application of his Quirk and gear was best suited for Noriko's own, maybe she could learn a few tips to best use her own in combat or even rescue missions. After all, there was only so much phasing and levitation could do on their own.

"I see," Hanashi said. "So what was the job he—"

Noriko shook her head frantically, just before Manaka laughed and admitted, "Ah, I don't remember it much. I hit my head, so the event is just one big blur. But I do remember Eraser Head at the end! He lectured us and everything!"

It was, to say the least, the last reaction he was expecting from _either_ Shizue. Least of all, he didn't expect Noriko to change the subject to a more recent event.

"So which one was the redhead you spoke to?"

And the way Manaka's smile seemed to glow made Hanashi shield his eyes somewhat. Never in his life had he met someone with this much energy before, never even pausing to regain their breath.

"His name's Kirishima! He was really friendly and didn't freak out when I approached him, so I think he's a good start for Noriko's Quest of Friendship!"

"Not happening," Noriko grumbled.

Manaka resorted to begging his sister to cooperate, and while that particular dispute began Hanashi began his attempt at remembering names and faces. At least Kirishima was the only redhead in the class, so remembering his name would be easy. Sort of.

He wasn't even going to touch on why Manaka wanted to find friends for Noriko. He figured that was more of a sibling thing than anything.

"What about you guys? Did anyone talk to you?" Manaka tried.

Noriko shrugged. "Yaoyorozu-san loaned me a textbook for the last class."

"Sato squinted at me when I walked past," Hanashi chimed in.

Manaka's grin finally began to falter. He resumed eating his lunch, having no comment on the responses given to him, and Hanashi found lunch passed rather uneventfully from there. He supposed it was a relief, but it still felt uncharacteristic—especially for the boy he'd known for even less than Noriko.

Lunch soon came to an end, and as students began to filter back into the classroom for the next class, Noriko leaned across the desk and whispered, "Hana-chan, be careful of Bakugou—the blond with the sour look on his face. He's… Not the nicest."

She retreated to her desk. As Manaka settled in his own, Hanashi leaned over and muttered to him, "Bakugo?"

Manaka tried to smile, but it was clear he held some level of discomfort at the thought of the boy in question.

"We went to middle school with him," he muttered back. "Nori never got involved with him personally, but, ah… People like him are part of why she doesn't like being around others, y'know?"

"So… I'm being warned?"

Manaka shrugged casually. "Nori probably wants to keep you safe. It's good progress, if you ask me! Normally I'm the only one she babies."

He had to snort a laugh at that. He'd never really had friends who looked out for him before, and it seemed Noriko was the full package when it came to being cared for. It was nice. Unfamiliar, but nice.

Hanashi kept his eyes on the students who sat in the rows in front of him and felt himself smile a little. It wasn't Isatake, where they were supposed to be, but maybe high school would still be an improvement for them.

* * *

She had the strangest feeling she was being watched.

Noriko was never the biggest fan of having attention. Everyone would either overload her senses or harass her to the point of reclusion. Attention was never _fun_ for Noriko. Not like it was for Manaka.

So when she felt eyes on the back of her head in the middle of class, Noriko began to fidget. She couldn't just phase away from sight altogether, not while she was sitting at her desk, and the teacher was bound to call upon her for an answer about the assigned reading that had already been given out. Noriko's nerves danced around in the pit of her stomach while she did her best to just scribble her notes and remain unseen from under her bangs. It was her only backup at this point.

Cementoss, apparently the modern literature teacher for U.A.'s first years, was doing an otherwise decent job of informing the students and pointing out parts of the required reading they'd want to take note of. It was standard, just like middle school—nothing like the outlandish event Manaka would try hype it up to be every time he gushed over their class list. It wasn't like Noriko would fall behind, being a fast reader, but analysing literature and writing essays on them were never her strong point. Fictional people didn't seem to give off the easy vibes that real ones did for her.

It made it difficult for her to side with particular characters in books, too.

Cementoss scanned the row she was in, and Noriko froze on the spot. The only thing that probably kept her from looking scared out of her mind over being called out to was her constant deer-in-the-headlights expression today. But the pro's gaze moved back down to the front, and he seemed to settle on a student for the next task.

"Bakugou," Cementoss announced, "read to the class pages ninety through ninety-two, if you will?"

Noriko held back the instinctual shudder she felt coming on at the sight of the blond boy rising from his seat. Oh, she was well aware of who Bakugo was. It was hard to go through a day at Aldera Junior High without hearing how Bakugo Katsuki was aiming for U.A., nothing less. The girls in her class would talk about it all the time, make jokes about getting into danger so an older, pro hero Bakugo would save them.

She never understood the obsessive crushes. She never understood why disagreeing with their opinion on the boy would always lead to harassment. From what she knew, he was a student with good grades and a pretty noticeable Quirk—sure, it was admirable, but it was hard to ignore how he treated his peers.

Noriko still remembered hearing from Manaka about a member of the girls' track team having a meltdown over being called a wannabe for confessing to the boy. It was probably the first time Manaka was forced to acknowledge that Bakugo probably wasn't all rainbows and puppies despite his ambitions. Noriko wouldn't admit it aloud, but she was so _overjoyed_ at the revelation. If he could acknowledge something like that, maybe Noriko wouldn't have such a hard time reminding Manaka of the reality of heroics.

But before all that, she needed to figure out who the hell was setting off her fight or flight response in the middle of class. Bakugo had attention on him, which explained why people behind her would be looking past her—but she still couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Was she really that out of place in the classroom? In the school itself?

It would be too much, she thought. Manaka was good at handling rejection, since he was always a half-full kind of guy. Hanashi, from what she'd heard, was used to being an outcast and left to his own devices. But Noriko couldn't take another three years of being the odd one out. Being sought after in anything less than a kind fashion.

She clutched the book tightly, her nails dragging against the shelf-fresh cover. Yaoyorozu had apparently made copies of the reading material during lunch for the trio ( _she was just obligated to, Aizawa-sensei probably told her to do it_ ), and there was no doubt Noriko would be questioned if something happened to the gracious gift from the outstanding U.A. student ( _how long would it take for Yaoyorozu to isolate her, along with the rest of the girls?_ ). Bakugo was close to finishing his passage when Noriko went wild with all the scenarios that could play out.

The girls at this school probably had better Quirks than at Aldera. It wouldn't just be getting snuck up on and having water sprayed at her. It wouldn't just be a simple smearing of squid ink all over her desk. No, U.A. was a whole other level.

U.A. had the potential for worse. It terrified her.

Noriko's hand bolted up into the air before she could stop herself. Cementoss called out to her, cutting off Bakugo just as he was about to finish, and the gazes on Noriko _multiplied_. This was the opposite of what she wanted to do—the opposite of hiding in plain sight. But she kept going, stuck on autopilot and unable to break free.

"M—May I please be excused to the bathroom?" she near-mumbled. Cementoss didn't waste any time giving permission, and Noriko practically flew out of her seat. She scuttled out of the classroom and walked as fast as she could in the direction of the bathroom. She just needed five minutes. That was it.

At least the signs in the large school were easy to follow. Noriko was in the bathroom within minutes of leaving the classroom, and she wasted no time locking herself in a stall and sitting atop the lid of the seat.

Five minutes. Five minutes, she told herself over and over. She and Manaka had been trying to work on this for years now. She just needed _five minutes_.

She curled up into a ball and closed her eyes. Like practicing before swimming laps, she inhaled and exhaled timed, strategic breaths. Noriko wasn't even aware of how hard she was shaking until her muscles relaxed, a dull ache all that remained.

 _Five minutes_.

A vibration in her breast pocket alerted her to her surroundings once more. Noriko fumbled with pulling it out, and when she saw the previous text on the screen from Manaka she let out a short breath.

He must've begun timing her the moment she left the classroom. At least he knew how to look out for her, even when they were apart. Noriko slowly uncurled herself and rose from the toilet seat. She opened the message, breath held for a moment, and then slid her phone back into her pocket when Manaka's calm reassurances flashed across the screen.

Noriko fixed her hair, her uniform from Isatake, and then made absolute certain her skirt hadn't folded awkwardly in her position. With everything all set, she opened the stall door and prepared herself to face the rest of the day.

* * *

"Shizue."

Manaka and Noriko both looked up from their bags at Aizawa-sensei. The tired hero squeezed his eyes shut and let out a long-suffering sigh. "Senior," he added.

"Ah, yes!" Manaka fussed. He stuffed his arm through the straps of his bag and hurried over to the desk at the front.

"Come with me to the staffroom," Aizawa-sensei drawled. Manaka could only stare after the man in bewilderment as he left the classroom before his students, all of 1-A curious about Manaka being called up. He wouldn't deny that some of the more fantastical theories went through his mind first—the opportunity for an autograph and the like—but even Manaka knew when to be serious.

No, he was more than likely being called to Aizawa-sensei's office to have a talk. A very serious talk. He glanced back at Noriko and their pink-haired classmate, finding them staring back with obvious concern. They'd both been so nervous about going to U.A. while the investigation into Isatake took place. He had no doubt that if he weren't in the room, their feelings of being outsiders would grow threefold. But he didn't really have much of a choice to stay, not when _he specifically_ had been called up by a teacher.

God, he hoped he hadn't done something wrong on his first day. Noriko would never let him live it down and baby him more than she already did. Not that he minded her fussy nature, especially when it led to her joining him on trips to the park for a jog.

"C—Coming," he called back to Aizawa-sensei. Manaka walked as fast as he could out the door and followed the hero in black. It didn't take long to arrive at the staffroom, and it took even less time for Aizawa-sensei to sit down and pull out Manaka's permanent record.

This was definitely a serious talk, then.

"There's a matter that the principal wants me to speak with you about," Aizawa-sensei began. Manaka gulped audibly—hardly his intention—and earned a stiff glare. "There are theories as to why Isatake High School was attacked so close to the first classes of the year, and while I cannot divulge details of the investigation, I can at least give out some warnings."

"Warnings?" Manaka said.

"Yes. I'm sure some of your classmates have made the connection between you and one of the older heroes in our history." He sighed. "I'm sure the same could be said of whoever found out you got into Isatake."

Ah. So this was about his Quirk and Grandpa Mirai. Manaka could feel his whole body deflate. He'd already had this talk with his homeroom teacher from Isatake immediately after being accepted—a very harsh, very accusatory talk, no less—and considering how much more of a sunny disposition she'd had compared to Aizawa-sensei, Manaka wasn't looking forward to what the man would conjure up.

"Yes, sir…"

"There is reason to believe it was students accepted into Isatake this year that were being targeted in the attack," Aizawa-sensei went on. "All schools accepting your classmates—Shiketsu, Seijin, Isamu, all of them—have been told to warn students they've taken in."

"But Nori and Ni—"

"Will be spoken to about this tomorrow. _You_ are a more pressing matter."

Pressing… In other words, Aizawa-sensei was someone who believed Manaka was one of the reasons Isatake was attacked. He couldn't say he was surprised. He was definitely disappointed, though.

"U.A.'s hero course requires heavy development and usage of Quirks, and from your medical records it's clear that you're another one I need to keep an eye on." Aizawa-sensei flipped open the file and let out another heavy sigh. "Seizures from overuse. An aneurysm on the frontal lobe that has doubled in size since you were ten."

Manaka blinked at him. Aizawa-sensei looked up almost expectantly from the file, and Manaka did his best not to let out a nervous laugh. "I'm a little confused," he admitted.

That earned him a blank stare, simultaneously exhausted and judgemental. Aizawa-sensei really didn't pull his punches when it came to how frustrated he looked.

"This would've been easier if you'd been here yesterday," Aizawa-sensei grumbled to himself. "Like I told Midoriya, if your Quirk is going to render you useless after only a miniscule amount of uses, there's no point in you even being here. It's very clear that you've put little thought into how your Quirk affects you physically, and if this is the way you'll continue on then you may as well leave now."

His jaw dropped before he could stop himself. This wasn't the accusation he'd expected, but damn if it didn't leave him stunned and at a loss for words. Aizawa-sensei wasn't wrong—Manaka did have bad habits as a kid and overdid it at times for trivial things like making sure he wasn't late for school, but he couldn't help the seizures! And the aneurysm just needed surgery if he couldn't keep his blood pressure stable! It wasn't like he was rendering himself useless with just those.

And—

"Grandpa Mirai suffered from them as well," he blurted out. Manaka immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, gaze dropping to his shoes in shame. It was a well-known fact that the retired hero Showtime suffered from seizures when he had too much pressure piled on him, and the surgery he underwent towards the end of his career made headlines for all of a month as people waited for him to recover. He was far from top ten, but he was definitely among the likes of Mt. Lady and the Wild, Wild Pussycats.

But there was always one thing his dad would tell him whenever he came home with a particularly bad nosebleed or during scheduled visits to the doctor—and Aizawa-sensei was about to say it verbatim, no doubt.

"And instead of using his Quirk for trivial matters and exhausting his body to the point of early retirement, he understood his limitations and kept himself from becoming a danger to others and failing the one responsibility he had in the field." Aizawa-sensei's gaze flickered to Manaka's uniform, to the black jacket sleeve he habitually wiped his nose with. "Cementoss noticed you trying to hide a nosebleed in class. Need I remind you that use of your Quirk in school without permission is grounds for punishment?"

There it was. Manaka sniffed and removed his hand from his mouth. He thought he'd done it covertly enough, but pros really were on a different level to middle school teachers. He'd probably have to apologise to Cementoss next time he had modern literature.

"I'm sorry, Aizawa-sensei," Manaka said quietly.

The file snapped shut in the hero's hand. Manaka was too nervous to meet his eye by this point, still staring down at his shoes. All the energy and pep from today, all the excitement of meeting his new (albeit temporary) classmates—it just melted away when the lecture washed over him.

"There _are_ concerns about you being a target in the attack for your Quirk," Aizawa-sensei conceded. "I, however, don't find it a concern now that you're in U.A. _My_ concern is making sure you don't get yourself into trouble, let alone killed, because of your fickle decisions."

Manaka simply nodded.

He was dismissed not long after with a warning: Unless he took U.A. seriously and managed not only his Quirk, but his health better, he'd get the boot. Manaka skulked down the halls and towards the school gates as he pondered the ultimatum. He couldn't help wonder if maybe it was for the best—if maybe he wasn't going to be as good a hero as Grandpa Mirai—and that he'd help others better doing something else.

But then he thought of Noriko, of the fact that she'd applied for Isatake with him just to keep an eye on him. She had no heroic ambitions. If Manaka got kicked out, Noriko would be left without a reason to continue the heroics course either. The idea of his sister losing her drive again and all of the work they'd put into her self esteem going out the window made Manaka shudder. The whole point of working with her to keep from regressing back to her old self was to make sure she didn't feel so alone anymore.

Well, with a consequence like that in mind it was hard to deny that Aizawa-sensei had the right idea. If Manaka took better care of himself—if he and the Midoriya from his new class worked together to improve their Quirks without harming themselves—then maybe he'd be able to scrape by and keep both his dream and his sister's goal alive.

He just had to figure out how the hell he could stop a seizure.


End file.
